


Autumn Leaves

by Potoo



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Game of Thrones kills all your faves, M/M, Pre-Slash, The Night's Watch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:16:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potoo/pseuds/Potoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You should know,” Sam said, his voice slow and doubtful, before it grew fast very quickly, “Pyp’s dead. An arrow took him.” </p><p>Grenn noticed how <i>cold</i> it really was out here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn Leaves

The battle was raging throughout the whole of Castle Black, it seemed. Swords were ringing when they clashed against each other and arrows pierced the night air as much as screams did. The winter seemed colder than ever before, but Grenn’s skin burned hot from the battle when they arrived on the ground, the Wall towering above them and dying men before them. He couldn’t make out faces down here, even if he spotted a black coat amidst the varying shades of the wildling furs. And he told himself he shouldn’t try to; this was his brothers’ fight and he could not help them.

The five men around him were green boys, stewards the lot of them. They were frightened by the death they could smell around them – the piss of dead men, coppery blood, starved flesh and ragged hair burning – but wouldn’t admit it, not yet. They hadn’t been there when Grenn had seen the Others and their servants, hadn’t fought monsters as much as frostbite. Three looked younger even than Grenn. He couldn’t abandon them to hold the gate on their own, he would need to stand with them, and though he wished he could have stood with other brothers tonight, it was this or death. 

And he didn’t want to die tonight. He hadn’t come to the Wall to die. None of his brothers had. They would last this night and _all the nights to come_ and when the wildlings flew, they would rest and eat well and laugh, all of them would, he was sure. Edd would say that they had only survived because they were too dumb to die, or something like that. Sam would argue against them telling him how brave he’d been. Jon would smile for once. And Pyp... Pyp would jape and laugh the loudest and make fun of them all, but most of all of Grenn, and then when they would be alone Grenn would ask if he could kiss him. He’d wanted to ask that for a very long time now and what better moment was there than after this battle? 

They arrived on the ground. Never before had Sam’s face been a more welcome sight. His cheeks were flushed, covered with fat red blotches, and he was out of breath, his eyes were shining brightly with fear, his breath went too fast, but at least he _was_ breathing, and that was all Grenn needed to see. When they exchanged a few words, his own sounded so strong he was a bit surprised, and Sam sounded braver and surer than ever before in his life. If that bravery wasn’t only in his voice but in his heart as well, Sam the Slayer had chosen the perfect moment to draw courage from wherever. 

They yelled over the sounds of the battle. “Let’s go!” Grenn told his brothers when all that was necessary had been said. Might be he’d never speak to Sam again. Someone should make a joke about it: Sam, craven Sam, who had come to them as a weak, crying lordling, afraid to hold a sword, might well survive them all.  
“Grenn?” Sam said haltingly and Grenn turned his head to him for a short moment. Sam lowered his gaze to the ground as he’d done when they had been told to hit him in the yard; he was deadly afraid.  
“Sam,” Grenn replied as gently as he could, with a voice hoarse from shouting and his blood thumping hotly against his temples.

“You should know,” Sam said, his voice slow and doubtful, before it grew fast very quickly, “Pyp’s dead. An arrow took him.” 

Grenn noticed how _cold_ it really was out here. 

“Oh,” he heard someone say, probably himself, and then a dull pounding in his ears. He grew pale and flushed and pale again.

Sam was lying. 

Sam had to be lying. 

Grenn blinked.

“I was with him,” Sam’s voice was so hasty it would take flight soon, “I was right there so he didn’t. He didn’t leave with no-one there. Because I was there. I told him he’d be alright.” 

“But he’s not?” someone stated and Grenn was sure it was his voice, but he couldn’t remember speaking such words. Sam shook his head. Sam wouldn’t lie to him, Grenn realized dimly. He was telling the truth. Pyp was– 

“I’m sorry,” was all he said before he fled into the cage. Grenn didn’t ask what he was sorry for. Pyp was Sam’s friend as much as Grenn’s. It was good that they had been fighting together, it was good that they had been together when– – 

“Grenn,” one of the stewards yelled, “come!” 

He opened his mouth and he almost screamed at them to leave him alone; to leave him here, to let him find Pyp, to leave without him, to understand why he couldn’t move. But he didn’t actually say any of that. Sam was sorry because it should have been Grenn with Pyp and they both knew it. His feet began to run towards his brothers. They were waiting for him. There was a duty he had to fulfill. He was a sword and he would defend–

Pyp had defended them too, all of them and–

Pyp was a steward. Pyp was destined to cut turnips and make bawdy jokes about whichever Lord Commander and clean chamber pots and accidentally pour hot water over his fingers, _it had hurt so much that Pyp had been crying_ , and Pyp should not be fighting wildlings in the first place, and there should not be an _arrow_ in Pyp’s flesh somewhere. 

Grenn hoped he hadn’t started to cry when that arrow had hit him. He couldn’t bear the thought of not having been there if he’d cried. He cursed himself first and then the Gods. _If I had been there,_ he thought and immediately realized such thoughts were useless, _the arrow would’ve hit me._ And that wouldn’t have been half as bad, because Grenn was big and strong and he felt like he could survive ten arrows and even if he didn’t, he would’ve gladly exchanged his life for Pyp’s. It was a queer thought but comforting all the same. 

He saw that they were running through the tunnel, lit by flickering lamps, until they arrived at one of the gates. A giant’s feet were visible far away, and behind him the wildings’ fire. The brother behind Grenn drew in a sharp breath. 

“Will we die?” the brother asked in a wavering voice. 

Pyp was dead, Grenn thought. Pyp was lying somewhere with feathers sticking out of his body. And Grenn hadn’t been there with him. He had died alone and in agony and _Grenn hadn’t been there_.

The smell of death had been left behind. Instead, sharp frost filled the air despite the flames flickering around them. 

When the Others had come, it had been freezing cold. Grenn thought it seemed colder now, so very, very cold. 

“How are we gonna stop that?” the brother next to Grenn asked. 

“You heard Jon. We hold the gate,” Grenn told him. 

When the giant appeared, Grenn knew they’d die tonight, all six of them. For the other five, that was sad; but he found he didn’t mind that he would die, not in this moment, with the coldness all around him and worse, inside of him.  
The men were afraid. He wasn’t, but he found he was disappointed. Nothing would happen how he had imagined it. They wouldn’t rest and eat and laugh after this. Edd wouldn’t make one of his bleak jokes after this; Sam wouldn’t blush when they’d say he’d been brave; Jon wouldn’t smile; Pyp wouldn’t make fun of them. And Grenn would never know how his lips would have tasted.

“Night gathers,” he said slowly, “and now my watch begins.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is N O T betaed because I wanted to get it up right after the episode aired. I might upload an edited version in a few weeks. Until then, enjoy the stupid mistakes and the weird expressions only a non-native can offer.
> 
> D&D's asoiaf fanfiction "Game of Thrones" isn't as good as the canon, but this made me sad nevertheless and I had to write something about it. Some characterization from the books though. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


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